


What Happened Last Night

by Blink_Blue



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just your typical best friends who are secretly in love with each other, but neither of them know it. And of course, they get really drunk one night and end up sleeping together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s the pounding in his head that wakes him. A steady, constant throbbing behind his eyes and against his skull, that grows into a full body ache. His limbs feel like they’re made of brittle straw, and just the thought of moving a muscle makes him want to curl into a ball and sob. This might be the worst he’s ever felt in his young life. Oliver rolls over and suddenly gets a face full of t-shirt. He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the haze out of his eyes, and throws the offending item out of his face. 

Two things suddenly dawn on him: the first, is that he’s staring at the back of a mussed, dark head of hair, and the other, is that there are a pair of legs entangled in his own. Naked legs. 

 _“What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck,”_ he whispers frantically to himself. The other man still has yet to move. But he doesn’t have to, because Oliver would recognize that dark head of hair anywhere, and from any angle. He’s certainly spent enough time staring at it in his lifetime. It’s Connor, his best friend since grade school. Who at the current moment, is fast asleep, dead to the world, and from what he can feel under the sheets, 100% naked. 

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to bring back memories of the previous night. There was drinking. A lot of drinking. Asher’s parents were out of town, so naturally, he decided to throw a party. He convinced his older sister to get a keg for it. Combine that, a bunch of unchaperoned teenagers, and the entirety of the Millstone’s liquor cabinet, and the disastrous night and subsequent hungover morning after is really no surprise at all.

Oliver groans as he tries to remember the events of last night. He’d started the evening with a few beers. He remembers playing beer pong, him and Connor vs Wes and Laurel. Connor smacked the ball out of the air and ended up knocking over half the cups, drenching himself in shitty beer. It was hilarious at the time. He remembers talking to Michaela for what seemed like hours, giggling and laughing at her crush on the hot new student, Caleb. Then she asked him about Connor… and how he was managing his own crush. Then he remembers the bottle of tequila. And how it was passed continuously between himself and Connor. They laughed and laughed and  stumbled around the Millstone’s mansion, arms touching each other, both trying to hold the other up. He remembers gazing at the long column of Connor’s throat every time he drank from that bottle. 

_Shit._

His eyes fly open and he fights the urge to grab his clothes and run out of the room. But the rational side of his barely functioning brain knows that he can’t avoid Connor forever, not to mention, he’s really in no conditioning to be running at all at the moment. 

And now he’s being bombarded with _other_ memories from last night. Memories of hands gripping the insides of his thighs, soft stubble brushing down his stomach, against his hips, the warmest, wettest mouth around his cock, and then–

_Oh fuck fuck fuck…_

“Wake up!” He winces from the sound of his own voice, and how his head throbs, and the world suddenly shifts sideways. 

Connor still doesn’t move.

“WAKE UP!” He reinforces it by grabbing Connor’s upper arm and giving him a hard shake.

“Mmmm,” the other man groans. Connor’s arm half heartedly swipes at him, but he makes no effort to open his eyes. He mutters something into the pillow, incomprehensible.

“What?” Oliver leans closer to hear–

“Just let yourself out…” 

His jaw drops from the horror of realizing Connor thinks he’s one of his one-night stands. Just another of the many, many young men that the notorious playboy has bedded and never called again. 

He’s furious. 

“WAKE UP! WAKE THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!”

Connor flails and jumps so high he nearly falls off the bed. Instinctively, Oliver grabs his arms to steady him. Then, almost immediately pulls his hands back to grab the covers and pull them up, covering himself. 

“What the fuck?” Connor mumbles, and drops back onto the bed. He rubs his eyes and then his head, wincing, probably from the hangover and the soreness of his body. “Ow ow ow…” he whispers. “So loud…” 

He finally opens his eyes again to get a good look at Oliver, who’s trying his best to not freak out more than he already is. 

Connor blinks. “What are you doing in my bed?”

Oliver smacks his arm angrily. “We’re not in your bed, you idiot!”

Connor suddenly looks around, taking in their surroundings. “Where–what– _oh my god.”_

Oliver nods frantically. 

 _“Oh my god oh my god oh my god…”_ Connor whispers as he realizes they’re in one of the guest bedrooms at the Millstone mansion. Memories of last night filter back into this head. He looks down at himself, lifts the sheet–yup, naked–and rubs at an itch on his belly, which is covered in– _holy fuck–_ it’s covered in dried semen. 

“We had sex last night,” Oliver hisses.

Connor swallows and nods.

“WE had _SEX_ last night.”

“Yeah, I got that, Ollie,” Connor whispers. 

“HOW ARE YOU NOT FREAKING THE FUCK OUT??!”

Connor groans and grabs his head in both hands again.

“Holy shit, holy shit, _we had sex last night.”_

“I know we had sex last night,” Connor says through gritted teeth. “You can stop saying it. You want to know how I know? Because I can feel it in my ass!”

Oliver blanches.

“Oh god, my head,” Connor groans and slowly rolls over onto his side. Oliver really, _really_ tries not to notice how the motion causes the sheets to slip just low enough to reveal _everything._  Including a dark red mark just below his hip bone. An image of himself sucking on the tender flesh and the sound of delicious, filthy moans escaping from Connor’s lips flash into his head. 

“And my ass,” Connor adds for good measure. “Oh god, this is why I never fucking bottom,” he grumbles.

“I can’t _believe_ that’s what you’re focusing on,” Oliver hisses. “We had _sex._ And maybe you’re not freaking out because you have sex all the time! With random guys that you meet on Grindr and never speak to again. But this is me! This is us! _We_ don’t do this, Connor!”

Connor sighs and slowly sits up in the bed, still looking miserable from his hangover. He grabs the sheet and tugs it up to properly cover himself. “Look, it’s not a big deal, Oliver,” he says softly. “We had sex. We were clearly drunk out of our minds. We can just… pretend it never happened. I barely remember it anyway,” he says with a small laugh. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Oliver slowly drops the tension in his shoulders and he sags a bit as he watches his best friend. His best friend, whom he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember. The guy he grew up down the street from, and has known practically his whole life. The guy that he watched grow more and more beautiful every single day, as his own feelings grew from a childish infatuation, to a schoolboy crush, to something much, much more. And the guy that breaks his heart every time he has another one night stand with a random guy of the week. 

It’s Connor. He had sex with Connor.

And it is a big deal. 

But he’ll never say that. Because Connor doesn’t feel the same way, and the truth of Oliver’s feelings, if it got out, it would ruin them. Their friendship would never be the same, and Oliver would lose the most precious thing he has. So he keeps it to himself. 

Oliver clears his throat awkwardly. “Okay,” he says softly. “Um… I’m going to go home, I guess. Sleep off this hangover.”

Connor nods. “Yeah, me too.”

“Can you uh…” The other man looks at him expectantly. “Can you turn around, while I get dressed,” Oliver mumbles.

“Oh, yeah.” Connor looks away embarrassedly.

Oliver quickly gathers his clothes from the floor. Half paying attention, he doesn’t realize he grabbed Connor’s shirt until it’s already on, and just a bit too small on him. He doesn’t bother changing it, he just needs to get the hell out of here. He looks for his shoes, and finds one in the corner of the room. With a bit of difficulty, he finds the other under the bed. He doesn’t bother putting them on. He just gathers them in his hands, along with his phone and jacket. He looks around the room, at anywhere but Connor, looking for anything else he might have forgotten.

Oliver avoids all eye contact and mumbles a quick goodbye. He steps over the empty tequila bottle, stumbles out of the room, without looking back, and completely misses the way Connor wistfully watches him as he runs out the door. 


	2. Chapter 2

_The room fills with the sounds of their desperate gasps and pleasurable moans. Connor whimpers softly into his mouth. A bit more force and he’s awarded with a cry torn from the man’s throat. H_ _e swallows every breath of it. There’s no space between them, not even an inch. Their lips have been attached since the start, unwilling to be parted, as Oliver buries himself in Connor’s heat, again and again. His head spins, but all he can focus on is the pleasure, the feeling, and the taste. It overwhelms him and he swims in it._

_Connor’s eyes are glassy with lust. He tightens his thighs around the other man and_ _arches beneath him, pressing their bodies even tighter together. Hi _s nails scrape deep, red scratches along Oliver’s back. _ _They radiate heat, lust, and desire. It rolls off of one and onto the other.____

_They fuck like dying men starved for air, and the other is their salvation._

Oliver blinks when he’s suddenly shaken out of his trance. Startled, he sits up slightly in his seat. But thankfully, the teacher doesn’t seem to notice. In the time that he zoned out, the topic had changed from limits of a function to some strange, unfamiliar mathematical gibberish that he no longer understands. He looks down embarrassingly at his blank page of notes. If he fails calculus, at least he’ll have Connor Walsh to blame for it.

Speaking of, he slowly takes his phone out of his pocket and attempts to discretely glance at the screen. Unsurprisingly, it was another text from Connor that had distracted him from his distraction.

_Hey, can we talk after school today? You’ve been avoiding me._

Oliver sighs softly and shuts the screen off without responding. Even without turning around, he can feel Connor’s eyes on him. 

It’s been three days since the morning they woke up together, naked, hungover, and sore. Memories of the previous night were barely there. But enough to piece together what had happened. Something that would forever change their friendship, though neither of them wants it to.

More memories returned in the following days, as Oliver stubbornly ignored Connor’s calls and texts. He even went to great lengths to avoid him in school for an entire day. Clearly Connor is sick of it.

But he just can’t face him yet. Not when the simple thought of the man brings back a flash of that night. _Connor’s head thrown back in the midst of their passion, lips parted in pleasure for a mere second before Oliver’s covering them with his own again._

Oliver closes his eyes and groans silently to himself. He’s utterly unable to pay attention to the lecture. And honestly, just being in the same room as Connor is enough to give him anxiety.

Which is why when class is over, he scrambles to the door, thankful that Connor sits two rows behind him, and three seats over. 

It’s probably immature of him, but he doesn’t care. He can’t face Connor. Not yet. But the choice is taken from him at the end of the day, when he gets off the bus, walks up to his house, and sees Connor’s car parked in his driveway. 

His heart sinks in his chest as he watches Connor climb out of his car. The man’s expression is unreadable. But he sees a hint of annoyance, anger, and… desperation maybe?

“Oliver!”

“He-hey,” he stutters as he walks up his driveway. Adamantly, he refuses to make eye contact, and pretends to fumble for his keys, instead. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk.”

“What about?” He asks, and tries to ignore the fact that his voice is way higher than it should be.

“You’re avoiding me,” Connor says flatly, as he follows him to the front door. “Because of Friday night. Because… because we slept together,” he says softly.

“I thought we were pretending that never happened,” Oliver mutters as he opens the door. Connor follows him inside before he can protest.

“Yeah, well it’s not exactly like things are back to normal. You’re not talking to me, you’re avoiding me, you–hey!” Connor grabs his arm as he tries to walk away. “You won’t even look at me! Oliver!”

Oliver pulls his arm out of the other man’s grasp. He doesn’t want to run away, but he dreads facing Connor again. It’s hard enough spending the majority of his adolescent years in love with his best friend. But now, after having a taste of what it could be like, now he wants it so much more. 

He sighs softly, and tells himself to just get it over with. Just _get over it._

He finally looks up at Connor. The man looks… sad… dejected, and a little bit hurt. It’s not a look he’s used to seeing on the confident man. 

He feels a twinge of guilt in his gut.

“Ollie… It’s weird between us,” Connor whispers. “And awkward, and… I hate this. You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to depend on. And this… I–I can’t deal with this.”

Oliver swallows silently and looks down at his feet.

“I’m sorry that it happened,” Connor continues softly. “We both drank way, way too much. We weren’t thinking right, and it–it doesn’t have to affect us if we don’t let it. Please, Ollie… I’m so sorry. Can we just go back to the way things were?”

Oliver still stares at his shoes. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly, and gives a small shake of his head, which Connor probably takes the wrong way. “I’m not sorry,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I’m not sorry,” he repeats. “I’m not sorry that it happened.” They watch each other silently for a moment, Connor confused and Oliver not knowing how to say exactly how he feels. He’d kept it all bottle inside for so long, this is untrodden territory for him. 

“Connor, I… I’ve been dreaming about that moment since… probably since I was fourteen. Maybe even earlier. I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember.”

Connor’s lips slowly fall open as he stares in shock. But he doesn’t say anything, and Oliver figures it’s best to get it all out in the open anyway. Like ripping off a bandaid.

“Like… before I saw my first porno, before I saw you take our neighbor Cole into your backyard and fool around with him, before they explained in our sixth grade health class how sex even works, I’ve _wanted_ you. I–I never imagined it would happen like this. And it was my first time, I–I had always hoped–dreamed it would be you… not in those circumstances, of course. But–”

“That was your first time?” Connor interrupts him.

Oliver fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Connor, you know everything about me. You know that was my first time.”

The barest hint of a smile spreads on Connor’s lips. “Was it good?” He asks softly.

Oliver groans. “What I remember of it was… very good.”

“Do you want to do it again?”

Oliver glares at him. “Don’t joke.”

Connor chews his lower lip between his teeth, a clear sign that he’s nervous. The expression on his face is unreadable. He licks his lips and Oliver tries to ignore the motion the best he can. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Oliver chuckles sardonically. “Come on… look at you, Connor. You can get any guy you want. You _do_ get any guy you want.” He shakes his head sadly. “Why would you ever go for me? And I didn’t want to risk our friendship. I mean… you’re my best friend. I–I wasn’t going to risk that. And now, that might be ruined anyway.”

“Ollie…” Connor whispers. “You’re such an idiot…”

Oliver stares at him. He just poured his heart out, he wasn’t expecting to be insulted. “What?”

Connor chuckles gently. “We’re both such idiots… You’re in love with me,” he says softly.

Oliver shifts awkwardly in his spot. He hadn’t wanted to use the L-word, but yeah, he’s in love with Connor. There’s really no reason for the other man to rub it in like that.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Oliver’s head snaps up. There’s no way he heard that right. “ _What?!”_

“I’m in love with you too. I have been for years,” he says softly as he takes a hesitant step forward. “Since I first knew that I liked guys.” 

Oliver stares in shock, shaking slightly, because this just can’t be real. This is something he’d imagined in his head, something he’d only ever dreamed of.

“I never made a move because… you’re too good for me. And I’ve always known that. I’ve never deserved your friendship. I’ve never deserved _you._ And it always made me really sad,” he says softly. “And when I’m sad… I look for random guys to hook up with. Because for just that moment, it makes me feel better. But I always left them feeling worse than before.”

“Connor…” Oliver watches him, aghast. How could they have both been so stupid? He slowly steps forward, and reaches up to cup Connor’s face in his hands. He’s still at a loss for words.

“I never wanted any of them,” Connor says in a quivering voice, shaking his head. “I never go back, I never call, because I don’t want them. I want you.”

Oliver smiles sadly. “It always broke my heart every time you hooked up with some random, gorgeous, hot guy that you never speak to again.” He looks deeply into Connor’s eyes, and he feels the other man’s fingers tugging on the hem of his t-shirt. “I don’t want that. I don’t want that to be what this is. I want you, _all of you_. And I’m not into sharing, Connor.”

Connor laughs softly. “Are you kidding me? It’s always been you, Ollie. Always.”

Oliver closes the distance between them, capturing Connor’s soft lips with his own. He’ll remember every detail of this kiss for the rest of his life. It’s sweet, gentle, and loving, without the desperation of their drunken, lustful night, but with all of the tenderness and affection they feel for each other.

“So… are we boyfriends?” Oliver whispers against his lips.

He feels Connor smile against him, and he gives a small nod of his head. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“I can’t believe we were idiots for so long.”

Connor chuckles in his arms. “Yeah, we deserve each other,” he says jokingly.

Oliver smiles as he watches him. He still can’t quite believe it. It almost still feels like a dream. But this is everything that he’s ever wanted, for as long as he can remember. “I love you, Connor.”

Connor grins widely. “I’m no expert at relationships, but usually you’re supposed to date for a while, before you say ‘I love you’.”

He tightens his arms around the other man, as Connor smiles warmly at him. “I guess we’ve never really been very conventional.”

Connor laughs softly. He only hesitates for a second, “I love you too, Ollie.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


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